It was one of those rare mornings when the store was quiet. No goblin brawls over expired soda, no slime trying to use the floor as a trampoline, not even Globby reorganizing the mop bucket according to some invisible aesthetic standard.
I took a deep breath.
Peace.
Contentment.
Freedom.
Before this, I'd held a number of "legitimate" jobs:
Fast Food Counter Guy: Fired after someone asked for a burger and I handed them a bowl of lettuce and a smile.
Delivery Driver: Quit after delivering a wedding cake to the wrong wedding. They ate it anyway.
Night Guard at an Aquarium: Let's just say petting the jellyfish was frowned upon.
All of these positions taught me one valuable lesson: bosses are terrible people.
So naturally, I decided to become a part of the terrible people.
A few months ago, one night at 3 a.m. I was scrolling through the magical classifieds, right between Wand Repairs and Curses Lifted, Cheap, when I saw it:
FOR RENT: Prime Retail Space.
Flexible location. Guaranteed customer base. Only slightly cursed. Rent payable in gold coins.
"Only slightly cursed" sounded perfect.
Rent was reasonable.
Running my own convenience store sounded like a dream... or a lawsuit waiting to happen.
I called the number. A deep, echoing voice answered:
"Congratulations, Hanseok. We accept you as our newest tenant."
I Don't know how they knew my name.
But i didn't ask questions.
The contract arrived by magic scroll the next day. Key points:
Rent: Monthly, paid in gold.
Eviction: Immediate if rent isn't paid.
I signed with a glowing quill. The paper puffed into smoke and just like that, I was a shop owner inside a literal dungeon.
My family reacted, well as i had expected them to react.
Mom: "You bought what? Inside where?!"
Sister: "Do you even have a business plan?"
Cousin Min-jun: "Cool… free snacks?"
Uncle: Tried to sell me anti-dungeon charms at triple price.
Nobody understood.
Nobody ever does.
The shop gave me a little shop wedged between a blacksmith and a magical tattoo parlor. I stocked it with:
Instant noodles
Soda
Bandages
"Slightly magical" snacks
A wheezing coffee machine that explodes coffee occasionally.
And then I learned the first rule of dungeon retail: You don't choose your customers. They choose you.
Enter the Old Adventurer
Door chime: ding-ding.
Gray-haired, brown-eyed, carrying a bow. Aura of "I've seen too much, and hate all of it."
He dumped two bottles of Darkroot Brew on the counter.
"You own this place?"
"Yep."
"...Why?" The old man muttered.
"It's my dream." I answered with a smirk, trying to be polite even though I knew it would amount to nothing.
"...Sad."
I didn't charge him extra for that comment.
The HUD blinked:
NEW DELIVERY QUEST: Labyrinth Librarian's Urgent Request
Destination: Floor Ten, East Wing Archive
Time Limit: 40 minutes
Reward: 150 gold + 50 points
Gold for rent, points for Dungeon Shop. One has to balance the priorities wisely.
Globby was on register duty. Mira wasn't around. I looked at the old adventurer.
"No." he said.
"Fine." I said.
Floor Ten was a maze of dusty shelves, whispering books and flying paper. Also something tried to steal my shoes.
I delivered the package to a four-armed skeleton librarian in reading glasses. 150 gold landed in my balance and 50 points blinked on the HUD.
Wheb i returned to the store Mira was behind the counter, glaring.
"You left Globby in charge of checkout. Half the customers got charged for things we don't even sell."
"I... think it's fine?"